Exchanging Body Heat in the Passenger Seat
by I'm Beth
Summary: A few short one-shot's focusing on Alec/Magnus. Unconneted. Full explanation inside.
1. I: Two Fingers and a Duck

A/N: Hello. Wow, it has been a while since I posted anything. Well, not that long, but I still feel really nostalgic. Basically, what this is is me getting rid of my obsession. I've been obsessing about Alec/Magnus for the last couple days, and I figure the best way to drown this problem is by writing cute little scenes of every type to get it out of my system so I can work on my main story without the constant longing for warlock/shadowhunter!sex. They won't be connected between chapter, but it they do turn out to be, I'll tell you. Basically, it's just a bunch of one-shots. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: not mine. CC's.

Alec's new favorite color was leather.

This was the only tangible thought he'd had in nearly two hours, his head full of the fizzy green drink Magnus kept pouring into his cup and the thought of what those leather clad fingers could do to a certain part of his anatomy (*winkwink nudgenudge*). Magnus plopped down on the red velvet couch next to him and casually slung an arm around his shoulders, like he would do this with every guy he met. Which he very well might. Dangling precariously from thin, gloved fingers was a crystal champagne glass, filled to the half-way mark with a thick red liquid that Alec would have called blood expect for the fact that that made no sense, and the drink smelled like his sisters perfume. "How do you like it?" Before Alec could respond with the extremely eloquent "_On my back, I guess._", Magnus indicated the fizzy drink in his hand. Blushing furiously, Alec mumbled a vague assertion and threw the rest down his throat, wondering if Magnus was looking at his neck when he did it. When he pulled his head foreword again, he found his vision was blurry.

"It's a special drink humans don't know about. It would kill them within five minutes of consumption." But he said it with a devious smile, as though dieing was sexual and a turn-on. Which, with Magnus, it probably was. (but, then again, most things —things that normally weren't sexual— were sexual with Magnus —like brushing your teeth, or tyeing your shoe, or reading a book) "But I bet if they found out about it, you wouldn't even have time to stock them in a bar."

"Wha's that?" I slurred, indicating his drink with a sloppy wave of my hand.

"Oh, this?" Magnus looked at the drink as though he'd forgotten about it. "I'm not sure what it's real name is, but on the street, it's known as Saturday Night." He held it up to me. "Would you like to try some? It's an aphrodisiac."

Alec stared at the cup in front of him. An offering. Alec, who was never one to turn down a fight (even if he wasn't entirely sure what 'aphrodisiac' meant), boldly took the drink and threw it back with the ferociousness one might use to swipe off the contents of an office desk to ready it for sex. It was tangy, and a little sweet —almost spicy— and thick, like chocolate sauce. Yet it tasted like the sparkling apple juice his parents had given him as a child on New Year's Eve.

"So," Magnus started out casually, rubbing soothing circles on Alec's arm, easing the tenision coiled in his shoulders until his head sank back on the warlocks thin shoulder. "It seems that you'll be staying here for a while."

"Seems that way." Alec murmured back sleepily. All he could think about was hoe close his lip were to Magnus's throat. He wondered if the warlock noticed as much as he did.

"It doesn't really make sense for you to sleep on the couch. . . Who knows how long you'll be here, and it's so bumpy. . ."

_Hopefully not _that_ long._ "Guess not. . ." Alec inched closer to Magnus by half a centimeter and thought that the couch was actually pretty soft.

"And I don't really have a spare room. . . So. . ."

It hadn't been that hard for him to conjure up a new coffee table, couch, floor tiling, curtains, carpet, and spiral staircase, (_"In celebration for having guests over"_, was his excuse, but Alec hadn't bought it for a second, and had a good feeling the warlock was just showing off) but Alec didn't say anything because he was still curled into Magnus's side and brushing his neck with his lips every time he spoke, so he was probably asking for it. "Magnus?"

"Yes?"

"Are you propositioning me?"

He sighed. "Can't just let a guy be subtle, can you?"

Alec didn't say anything. Magnus was silent. Then he sighed. Then:

"Yes, I suppose I am."

More silence. Then:

"So. . . Is it working?"

What was he supposed to say to that? Alec lifted up his head and opened his mouth and showed him.

It wasn't until nearly three hours later that the forms under the covers stopped moving and the sighs and moans stopped echoing off the walls and Chairman Moew came out from his Special Hiding Place (the one he goes to every time the Food Provider starts wrestling with one of the various Petters or Tail-Stepper-Oners that he brought into the poor cat's sanctum from time-to-time) and Alec collapsed back on the warm sheets and realized something.

"Hey, Magnus?"

"Hm?" Magnus's head popped up from under the covers, less intimidating without the make-up, licking something from his lips. He propped his head up on his hand and stared down at the flushed shadowhunter.

"Did you know I'm a virgin?"

Magnus just stared at him for a very long while.

"I mean. . . I _was_."

"I certainly hoped you enjoyed it, then," Magnus purred in a very Magnus-Way. His hand was on Alec's stomach again and was tracing something delicate and curly on the still-slightly-moist skin there. He wasn't sure what it said, but Alec had already detected a 3 and a C-A-R-R-O-T, so it was pretty much up in the air at this point.

"I did," Alec answered, maybe a little too somberly. Then he blinked. "I wasn't aware this was a water-bed. . ."

"It isn't."

"Hm," Alec didn't believe him.

"I'm sorry," Magnus sighed. "We should have waited until you were more coherent. Especially for your first time."

"I," Alec said, with all the dignity one with dried cum on their stomach could muster. "Am completely coherent."

"Alright," Magnus held up a hand, then lowered three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Alec gave him a look, then looked at his hand, then back at his face. "Two fingers. . ."

Magnus had just a moment to be surprised —

". . .and a duck."

—before Alec made his point for him.

"You see?" Magnus said, leaning back and basking in the glow of being right.

"No."

"You said 'Two fingers and a duck'."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"I think I would remember something like that."

"You're just too wasted to remember."

"Something I said five seconds ago?"

"So it would appear."

"You're so full of crap."

"But you love me anyway, right?"

". . ."

"Alec. . . Right?"

Silence.

Magnus reached over to shake Alec's shoulder in desperation, but the shadowhunter was already fast asleep.


	2. II: say smthg say anythg!

A/N: These just always seemed like fun & I wanted to try it and this is really only for my benefit but I hope you like it anyway. Lemon's in the next chapter. I can't wait to write it!

Disclaimer: u no the drill. Not mine. cc's

_DemonKiller (12:15):_ Magnus?

**HighWarlock (12:18):** Alec? Is tht u? Thot u dnt hv a comptr?

**HighWarlock (12:19):** Alec?

**HighWarlock (12:23):** YooHoo?

**HighWarlock (12:27):** r u angry at me?

**HighWarlock (12:34):** plz say smthg :,(

**HighWarlock (12:39):** just tel me wut i did

_DemonKiller (12:41):_ JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME TYPE GODAMNIT

**HighWarlock (12:42):** so yur not angry at me :D

**HighWarlock (12:44):** Alec?

_DemonKiller (12:46): _IT JUST TAKES ME A WHILE

**HighWarlock (12:47):** so y r u stil yeling?

_DemonKiller (12:49):_ frgt to undo caps

**HighWarlock (12:50)**: so howd u gt a comptr?

_DemonKiller (12:52):_ public library

**HighWarlock (12:53):** lame

**HighWarlock (12:55):** alec? Im sorry

**HighWarlock (1:01):** r u typing?

_DemonKiller (1:04):_ no nt rly

**HighWarlock (1:05):** so u wer ignroing me? D:

_DemonKiller (1:07):_ no

**HighWarlock (1:08):** let me ges. U wer typing somthng rly cute & romantic bt thn u chikend out

_DemonKiller (1:10):_ no

**HighWarlock (1:11):** liar

_DemonKiller (1:13):_ freak

**HighWarlock (1:14):** whl wer on th sbjct, u shod chng ur screename

_DemonKiller (1:16):_ y

** HighWarlock (1:17):** its embrsng

_DemonKiller (1:19):_ y

**HighWarlock (1:20):** nvrmnd


	3. III: Coffee has Magical Sex Powers

A/N: Has it been too long since I last uploaded? Oh well, here's yur pr0n. It actually wasn't even the one I originally planned to upload, but that turned out longer and more complex that I thought t would be, so it's still under revision.

Disclaimer: not mine. CC's

Alec awoke that morning and had three coherent thoughts in a row; which is something to be noted, considering the fact that he'd slept 'till noon, having stayed up until three in the morning proving to a certain cocky warlock exactly how dominant shadowhunter warriors could be (by lying on his back and taking it like a bitch). _Anyway_. Alec awoke and had these three thoughts:

Coffee

No Magnus

But coffee

Following his nose, Alec stumbled out of bed, stretching in the crisp morning air (Magnus had a horrible habit of leaving the windows open —_"to let in fresh air"_, he said, though Alec wasn't sure the smog collecting in his house constituted as air, much less fresh) becoming instantly aware of the fact that his pajama pants were missing. He was still wearing the long sleeved tee, but goosebumps began to travel up his calves, and he dug under the cover until he found them, shoved up against the foot board, wrinkled, but wearable.

He walked into the kitchen and was immediately greeted with every man's dream: their significant other, wearing nothing but jeans, making coffee and humming. Granted, Magnus was humming Bad Romance by Lady Gaga, but it was still cute.

Alec strolled in and kissed his tan back. "Morning," He murmured against the skin there. It wasn't sticky with sweat, like his was. And on his shoulder blades were twirling black marks meant only for warlocks, snaking down his arms and stopping just shy of his wrists. Alec knew those marks. Knew what they did and what they still did. Memorized them with his eyes and brain and tongue. He knew this body better than he knew his own. He knew what Magnus's hair looked like when it was free of colors and gel, what his hands looked like without their rings and polish and bracelets. He knew what that body looked like when he woke up on a Sunday morning, hungover, makeup smeared everywhere, hair stiff with dried alcohol that had been spilled and thrown. Of course, he didn't know _everything_ about him. He didn't know every aspect of his life and didn't know every thought he had and couldn't begin to understand the importance of wearing make-up people were not supposed to see —but Alec kind of liked it that way.

"Coffee?" Magnus asked, turning and smiling down at the younger man. Alec detested being shorter than Magnus (especially during sex, because that made Alec dominating an anatomical difficulty, if not a joke) but had come to accept it, and had started drinking more milk as compensation. "It's chocolate truffle flavored."

Let it be known that Alec didn't blanch out-right at that; not even when Magnus followed up (perhaps encouraged by the completely un-horrified look on his boyfriends face) by squirting an obscene amount of whipped cream, chocolate, caramel _and_ marshmallow sauce, cocoa powder, mint shavings, and three tiny raspberries on top. At this point, it barely even fit in the mug. Whipped cream wobbled on the side dangerously, but Alec's bare fingers boldly stood there ground, as did Alec's less-than-bold-mouth, which had clamped so tightly closed it was practically vacuum sealed.

But Magnus was just staring at him expectantly. . .

Those eager eyes. . .

Alec couldn't possibly let him down. . .

Alec glared down at the drink like it was an enemy to be defeated. He was a warrior, dammit. He was not going to let something like this stop him. He glared at the cup a second more, looked up at Magnus's big eyes, then took a deep breath and threw the cup back with a sharp jab of his head—

And made a mad dash for the sink.

_Dear God Almighty in Heaven that was the nastiest thing I've ever tasted and after living with my sister for eighteen years that is most certainly saying something and oh my God do normal people drink it like that too _—"What's wrong?" Magnus asked, leaning over Alec to inspect his red face.

"Hot," He managed to gasp out between heaves.

Magnus took a gulp, Alec watching it travel down his slim throat, sickened. Surely, it was the warlock blood. There must be something special about him that allows him to drink that swill. "Tastes fine to me," Magnus laughed. "But you've always had a very sensitive mouth. We can just wait for it to cool down."

_Shit_, Alec thought, blood cooling at the thought of having to down that entire cup. Quickly, he moved between Magnus and the counter, looking to distract the warlock from anything to do with coffee for the rest of his natural born life. "Actually," Alec stuttered, stalling, grasping at straws. "I was thinking we could do something else. . ."

Magnus got that look in his eye that clearly said _Oh yeah baby_, which meant he'd picked a distraction for him. Which would work out just fine, considering Magnus was a horny, perverted nymphomaniac, and Alec was a horny, easily-aroused teenager —he could distract the warlock as long as need be.

And it _was_ working out just fine.

Alec had previously been under the impression that having sex on a counter would be difficult, mostly due to the fact that he was short and couldn't see how a person could angle their hips like that, but, then again, he was forgetting how tall his boyfriend was, so it was relatively easy. It was also probably a good thing he was so flexible, even though he wasn't sure if his knees should be behind his ears like that.

Alec's head was dizzy, incoherent (which could be due to the fact that it was continuously slamming against a cabinet protruding from the wall, but Alec had a feeling it had more to do with the huge cock pounding in his ass) and completely incapable of forming anything longer than the constant plea for _more more more_. One of Magnus's hands strayed from it's place at Alec's quivering thigh and traveled up, playing across the galloping muscles in his abdomen, those tweaked nipples that _really shouldn't be that sensitive_, pushing each finger in turn into his gasping, wet mouth, then, finally, wrapping his slick hand around his dick and finding that rhythm that was so perfect and just right and exactly what he needed to push him over the edge and _so close so close dammit stop teasing and_—

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Starting, Alec whirled, and was suddenly filled with a sense of nausea so strong that he fell off the counter with a high-pitched squeal and could only sit on the cold linoleum and stare gapingly at the owner of that voice as he stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face drawn in a scowl.

Magnus Bane stood there, glaring at the other half-dressed Magnus who was currently bending down to help up the shell-shocked Alec. "Oh no, you don't!" Magnus #2 snarled, diving between Magnus #1 and Alec. "_You_ are not allowed to lay another hand on him, _ever_!" He shoved Magnus #1 aside and turned to help Alec up indignantly. "Sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" He asked curtly the second Alec was on his feet and looked stable enough to stand.

"_What_?" Alec shrieked, voice so shrill both the Magnus's winced and Chairman Meow darted out of the kitchen like it had caught fire. "Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? _ Why are there two of you_?"

Magnus #2's eyes got wide and incredulous. "But I explained everything in—." His eyes flashed with sudden understanding, then furry and he turned to the still smiling Magnus #1 with a look of hatred. "You took my note, you asshole!"

"I didn't take it —I just never showed it to him. You didn't say I couldn't do that." Magnus #1 provided helpfully, honestly, in a way that was surprisingly un-cocky. "Besides, Alec wanted to have sex too, and you told me to give him anything he wants."

"_Except for sex!_" Magnus #2 shrilled. "_That was unspoken, but I thought it would be obvious! He's mine, you sunuvabitch_!"

"What," Alec had to yell to be heard over their bickering (if you could call one-sided shouting bickering) "The fuck are you _talking about_?"

Magnus #1 and Magnus #2 looked at each other, then Magnus #2 pushed aside #1 with a groan of annoyance. "I keep around some copies, to take care of the house when I'm away." He jabbed his thumb at #1. "Which is what he is. A clone." Magnus #1 smiled at Alec, waving and looking very robotic.

"You can make clones of yourself?" Alec gasped.

"Yes, but I don't like to." Magnus sighed and crossed his arms again. "It just gets too confusing after a while." He gave Alec a very sardonic look under raised eyebrows. "But you would know all about that, now wouldn't you?"

"And it never once occurred to you," Alec snarled, leaning against the counter for support. "To mention that there may at times be someone walking around your house that looks, sounds, and acts exactly like you to your boyfriend that stays the night frequently?"

"Darling," Magnus tossed him a droll look that was clearly just humoring him. "You have this adorable habit of distracting me when the thought strikes." _I should have known_, Alec seethed to himself. _That this asshole would find some way to blame this on me._

"So," Impostor Magnus piped up innocently, rubbing his hands together, having been helpfuly quiet while they talked. "Are we still going to have sex?"

"I don't think I like this one." Magnus grumbled, ignoring Impostor Magnus, who was still smiling in a way that clearly meant he either had no idea what they were talking about, or just didn't care. "He's way too cocky without even meaning to be. The others are always so obedient, but this one is smart. It's an abnormality, I tell you." Magnus sniffed, then tossed his hair exaggeratedly, and snapped his fingers. With a popping sound and a puff of smoke, Impostor Magnus disappeared, smiling and waving at Alec the whole time.

"So," Magnus sighed, running fingers through sparkle-encrusted hair. He cast a look at Alec's disheveled state, as it came to the shadowhunters attention then that he wasn't wearing any pants and had pre-cum on his thighs. Embarrassment clouded his head, nearly made him dizzy with the weight of it. "Since you're already half naked, how about we—?"

"You're pathetic." Alec snapped, then threw back his shoulders and stormed out of the room with as much dignity as a person with pre-cum drying on their thighs could.

Magnus sighed and all was quiet for a moment. Then:

"Are you coming?"

Magnus took a deep breathe, sent a silent pray of thanks to God, then whirled on his heel and followed Alec to their bedroom.


	4. IV: Beware! The pr0n is a trap!

A/N: I've been really looking foreword to this chapter. Very pr0ny. Beware.

Belongs to CC

-this-is-a-space-

It's impossible to hide from, this pain —oh, and believe me, he's tried. He may like people to believe he's some sort of fearless all-powerful warlock, but, you should know, this really isn't the case. At the first sign of any real pain, he turns tail and runs for the safety of that bed that still holds some of _his_ smell and heat. Because he's a coward, and now there's no one to be brave for anymore. There isn't a room Magnus can go to that hasn't been altered in some small yet dramatic way during the time that that shadowhunter was here. Without him, the walls are gray and dull; his most beautiful painting are just ruined paper; everything that used to hold meaning to him are now just rocks in a graveyard. Useless. The entire house had been attacked by his furry. The wallpaper was torn. The furniture was tipped. Empty food container littered the front room like corpses, drooped wen empty or when Magnus lost the apatite for food. That shadowhunter's memory is imprinted upon every surface of this house now. Just as claimed by him as Magnus is. No matter where he turns, his face is ghosted on every wall, every window. It's haunting, the way he's everywhere the warlock look.

Take his dresser, for example.

To the naked eye, it looks fairly ordinary (if you can overlook the fact that it belongs to a boy), but to Magnus, it is swathed in memories and times he can't have back. Grainy as moments lost on the gray trimmed edges of strips of photographs. Lost, but in plain sight, a constant reminder of that day you never had.

-this-is-a-space-

"_No," Alec squealed, ducking out from under the warlocks grasping fingers, between two of which, hung a very innocent looking nail polish bottle, completely oblivious to all the trouble it was causing. "Get that stuff away from me!"_

_ "Just a little?" Magnus pleaded, throwing out an arm to try and catch his boyfriends ankle. "Just some French tips? A base coat? You can't even _see_ a base coat!"_

_ "If you can't see it, then what's the point?" Alec shouted back, from his spot at one end of Magnus's bed. "If no one knows it's there, then why even put it on in the first place?"_

_ "I'll know it's there," Magnus cried, grabbing the shadowhunters by the back of the knees and pulling him closer. "And that's all that matters."_

_ Alec opened his mouth to protest further, but at that moment, Magnus pinned him to the bed with one hand, and undid his pants with the other. _This kind of makes me a whore,_ he thought to himself, leaning down on his elbows to get more comfortable between the squirming boys legs. _But you know what they say; "Working sucks; but sucking works".

_-this-is-a-space-_

_And so, two hours later, Alec found himself on the warlocks bed (which is where he seems to find himself more often then not, lately), clothed only in a baggy black shirt and sporting ten sparkly rainbow toe-nails._

_ "This is. . ." Alec struggled for the right word, looking down at his feet as though he'd never seen them before._

_ "Fabulous?" His boyfriend provided, either not noticing or ignoring the look of disgust on Alec's face, choosing instead to curl up next to him, resting his head on his chest and tapping manicured fingernails against his stomach. He admired his work with a look of perverse satisfaction._

_ ". . . a catastrophe." Alec finished with a dismayed look at the pointy-eared fiend next to him, who feigned innocence by picking at imaginary lint on Alec's shirt. "You said you were just doing a base coat." He accused._

_ Magnus looked up at Alec with big, innocent eyes. "I was."_

_ "Then what happened?"_

_ "Well," The warlock's eyes narrowed, like he was trying to remember something. "I _did_ do the base coat —and it turned out completely perfect. So perfect, in fact, that I felt I could make it even _better_ by just the _tiniest_ hint of some French tips —just a little white, mind you, but it looked absolutely adorable; so I figured, why not put a little splash of color in there —not a lot, necessarily, but _just enough_ to really accent the bluish hue in your eyelashes during a sunset—.""_

_ "So you lied?" Alec had always been able to tell when Magnus was lying. He rambled a lot. And he put emphasis on a lot of random words._

_ "I didn't say that."_

_ "You just reworded it."_

_ "But I didn't say it."_

_ Alec sighed, and crossed his newly sparklified feet at the ankle. "You know," He said casually, looking up at Magnus's ceiling with a very dry expression. "I'm just going to take this off when I get home."_

_ "You mean with that big bottle of nail-polish remover that you keep on your bed-side table, right next to your alarm clock?" Magnus asked sarcastically, rolling over on top of the grumpy shadowhunter and resting his chin on Alec's collarbone. It wasn't very comfortable, but neither moved._

_ "I'm sure Izzy has some," Alec replied immediately, confidently._

_ "So you'll just walk up to her and say, 'Sister dear, I need to borrow your nail-polish remover, I mean, will you just _look_ at these toes'?" Magnus raised a challenging eyebrow, and Alec's forehead scrunched up._

_ "I don't have to ask her." Alec replied, but not as calmly, more determined to see this ridiculous conversation through than to actually find a solution._

_ "I'll bet you've never seen a bottle of nail-polish remover in your life."_

_ Alec grimaced. "How hard could it be to locate?" He sat up a little, forcing Magnus to scoot back. "I'll admit my knowledge of make-up products is a little lacking, but from what I've seen, it will most likely say something on the cover like, oh, I don't know, nail-polish remover?"_

_ "That," Magnus proclaimed sternly, sitting up and crossing his legs Indian-style. "Is just a theory."_

_ They stared at each other for a long time, until Alec broke the silence with a pillow to his boyfriends evil, sparkly face._

_ -this-is-a-space-_

Magnus's fingers ghost over the tiny bottle now, covered in a thin layer of dust. Unusable without _him_ to blanch at the colors.

He picks up the comb, too ordinary to belong to him. There are still a few dark hairs twisted between the teeth like barbed-wire, too long to belong to him. Too frayed.

Magnus picks a few out, but isn't sure what he's supposed to do with them, so he tosses him to the ground with a contentious sigh.

Chairman Meow trotted under his feet and looked up at him with big incredulous eyes, as if to say _'Where did the Snuggler go? When will he be back?'_. But Magnus has no patience for the rodent-sized feline, and moved him out of the way with a tired, pale foot.

-this-is-a-space-

_If you were a resident of Brooklyn who happened to have an evening appointment with The High Warlock of Brooklyn, then, more likely than not, by twelve that afternoon, you were probably in a very bad mood. This bad mood is most likely due to the fact that The High Warlock of Brooklyn had just recently canceled all his evening appointment for the day. And this would certainly put anyone in a bad mood (what were they supposed to do with all this free time, anyway?) considering how hard it was to schedule an appointment with Brooklyn's only High Warlock. The only person, in fact, that got to see the warlock that night —all night— was a guileless little shadowhunter, who was very unaware that because of him and his seductive little tongue, a good percentage of Brooklyn's downworlder population was now free on the streets with nothing to do and a bad temper. But Magnus saw no need to let him worry about that —he had much more pressing issues at hand._

_ "Alec," The afore mentioned High Warlock of Brooklyn panted, arching his back and curling his multi-ringed fingers in the sweat-soaked sheets. "Deeper. . . please, stop _teasing_ me."_

_ "I thought you liked teasing?" Alec quipped, lifting his mouth from the warlocks dick just long enough to taunt him, then lowered it again, moving his fingers faster, searching for that spot deep inside the warlock, that spot that made him scream and twist and beg and completely subject himself to the shadowhunter like he would with no other creature in existence. "You certainly like it well enough when your doing it to me."_

_ "Brat," The warlock grumbles, but it's made much less convincing when his voice breaks at the end as Alec demonstrates his lack of a gag-reflex. "Jesus, Alec, will you just—."_

_ "Here it is!" Alec proclaimed excitedly with a slightly-more-forceful-than-necessary shove of three fingers that seemed very much bigger than they had a few minutes ago. Magnus gasped breathlessly and threw his head back, his hips rocking unconsciously, looking for that friction, that one only Alec can seem to reciprocate._

_ "Alec!" Magnus gasped, his voice rising and falling, like he was some horny, inexperienced teenager again. "Please! I need. . . I need y—."_

_ But Alec would never find out what exactly it was that the warlock needed (like we don't know, though), because at that exact moment, something small and furry pounced on the bed. At first, neither had any idea what it was._

_ It was only when Alec screeched and started grasping at his back that Magnus realized what had happened._

_ "Chairman Meow! Get off of him this instant!" He hollered, but he may as well of been speaking to, well, an animal. To the poor cat, this was his finest moment. He was defending The Food Provider in a suicide mission he didn't plan to survive. _

_ For years, Chairman Meow had watched in horrified silence as the Food Provider had brought home Kickers and Petters alike, all to be taken into that room in the back and onto that bed that the cat was not allowed on. And then the door would close and The Food Provider would start screaming or breathing really funny and the cat would just have to sit outside and scrape at the door and wish he'd done something sooner. Well, now he'd been given a chance. The door had been left open —the Food Provider is a bit more clumsy with this Petter. So Chairman Meow hadn't hesitated —Not this time!— and had charged in to save the day._

_ And, surely, if Magnus or Alec could read the cat's mind, they would undoubtedly be touched (at least Alec would be) by this noble tale of loyalty and devotion. But currently, Alec is getting long, deep scratches on his back and Magnus has been interrupted during sex, so neither is feeling very charitable towards the cat at this moment._

_-this-is-a-space-_

Magnus slumped against the hallway wall and squeezed his eyes shut pressing a cold hand to his face as though to block out these thoughts and memories. Alec had always seemed to take control of his very being, even when he was here, but now, the shadowhunter was nearly inescapable. Even when he tried to resist, the ghost of memories would come back to haunt him, time and time again.

_Is this my punishment_ He wondered to himself, _for not fleeing after you the minute you left my world? Will you haunt me until we are together again?_

He sat in that quiet dark house and imagined it. It sounded. . . _nice_. _ It would almost be like you'd never left_. . .

_Together. . .even in—_

"Magnus!" A painfully familiar voice called from downstairs. "I'm back!"

Like a bullet, Magnus flew down the stairs, barely pausing to jump over the frightened but delighted cat at the foot of the stairs. And there he was.

Alec.

"_You're home!_" Magnus screamed, tackling the startled shadowhunter with much more force than was strictly necessary. "_I missed you so much! I thought I'd die if you didn't come home soon!_"

"Magnus, are you okay?" Alec asked with only a little concern in his voice. He looked around the house thoughtfully. "You remembered to feed the cat. . ." He muttered approvingly. Then, seeing Magnus's face, smiled gently. "I missed you too."

Magnus grasped Alec's head between both hands and very nearly ate his face. Alec let out a muffled _humph _before settling into the kiss and calming the warlock down with soft movements and a deep tongue. (_Alec's back. . . He's here. . .) _ They parted and Magnus sighed contently, nuzzling his face against Alec's neck. He could feel Alec's head turn this way and that as he took in the wreckage of Magnus's once (if not clean) beautiful house.

"Magnus, what the hell happened here?" Alec asked mistily. "I was only gone for two days."


	5. V: Merry Easterween!

A/N: wow, 2 posts in about 2 days. Looks like a new record. *is tired*

Disclaimer: not mine. CC's

**********

Magnus, being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, had a reputation to uphold. In partying, that is. For today was October the 31st , and, despite his promise to Alec, he intended to give Brooklyn one hell of a party, fuck them 'till they fainted, and leave them thoroughly hung over the next morning. It was going to be absolutely _fabulous._

"Alexander, do make sure your little friends are coming," Not that he liked them all that much (especially that blond-headed-queers-worse-nightmare-come-to-life) but he felt it was his personal duty to make sure that every living (and un-living) creature in New York had the opportunity to attend his fang-tastic (part of the responsibility of being the best damn party-thrower in Brooklyn was knowing the terminology) party. "It's a costume party, by the way."

"_What_?" Alec yelped from the shower. "You didn't tell me anything about that earlier! I don't have anything to wear!"

Magnus closed his eyes in bliss, as some do when things are going exactly as planned. "Yes, I foresaw something like this might occur with you," Silently, he reached under his bed and pulled out a package marked _'Best Day Ever Outfit'_. "And it is because of my magnificent foresight that I have an alternative outfit right here for you to wear."

"Okay, but I'll only wear it if it's not too. . ." He pauses, indecisively, and Magnus hears the water sputter off. "You know. . . _you_, is it?" Another pause that's, this time, of Magnus's causing. "No offense." He adds as an afterthought.

"No," Magnus sighs, after he decides that nothing is going to ruin this night for him. "There's. . . _really_ not much to it."

***********

"Simon, you really didn't have to come, you know."

Simon the Vampire, who was dressed, accordingly, as a troll, did his level best to fix his best friend with somber look —as best as a guy could when said best friends dress was cut as low as it was. Don't get him wrong —he hasn't had any romantic feelings for Clary in almost a year now, but he's still a guy. "The invitation said I would die a tragic and unexplainable death if I didn't attend —but it also played a Black Eyed Peas song when I opened it, so I figured I might as well stop by." That aside, he has two other girls on his arms that were very willing to show off their own costumes (and by costumes, we of course mean lingerie). Mia, who was young and, most of the time in the presence of older men who were more like fathers and older brothers, hadn't been able to leave the house in less than a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, which she had ripped up effectively as soon as she was out of their sight. She'd come as a werewolf, and while it wasn't very original, it was appropriately eye-catching. She'd dropped by the costume store last night and bought a pair of fake dog ears and a fake tail, which she'd attached to the back belt-loop of her pants (she'd also invested in a dog collar and a muzzle, but she was waiting until after the party to show that to Simon). Isabelle, who was classy and suave and not slutty in the least, had come as a princess, which may sound childish at first, but when you looked at the corset back, the heart-shaped neck-line, the tattooed-leg peeking out of the slip, you might reconsider (she'd also brought her whip and a pair of handcuffs, but she was waiting until after the party to show that to Simon).

Jace leaned back against the snack table (which was more of a decoration, with it's fake organs and bugs, which most of the guest ignoring altogether) and wondered if he was okay with the fact that his sister was whoring out to a Downworlder. And not just any Downworlder, but Simon. That made it ten-times worse. But then Clary walked by (on her way to dispose of a dog collar, muzzle, whip and handcuffs) wearing an elaborate white dress and high lace-up boots, so he figured he could get over it. "Hey, Clary," He leered, walking very close behind her. "Sexy outfit. What's gotten into you?"

She rolled her eyes and flicked him on the forehead, deciding at the last minute not to mention her mother had made the dress for her. He gasped, and pretended to be mortally injured, which Clary completely ignored.

"Anyway," Clary cut him off mid-monologue. "Do you know where Alec is? I was sure he'd come, considering he and Magnus are. . ." For some reason, it still felt awkward to say, even though it had nearly been a year since that day in the middle of that crowd. ". . .together." She finished lamely, dumping her mysterious bundle in the trash can.

"He said he'd be here." Jace shrugged, dusting off his sexy devil costume. _ Immature_, Clary reminded herself with a stiff upper lip. _ His immature devil costume._

With a flourish, Magnus waltzed into the room, carrying something that was purple and fizzing over the edges of the crystal goblet and onto his velvet blue gloves. Jace's eyes narrowed. "And what are you supposed to be?" Waving his hand to indicate the entirety of Mangus's fabulous attire. "You dress like that all the time."

Magnus huffed and smoothed a hand down his frilly green frock coat. On anyone else, the gesture might be interpreted as shy or insecure, but on Magnus, it simply outlined the jut of his hip and the flatness of his stomach and the tantalizing curve leading down to. . .

A tremble of horror drew down Jace's spine as Magnus explained the sense in his outfit choice. (He was obviously a "queen at heart") "Anyway," He snapped, when everyone had finished giving him blank stares over his perfectly rational costume. "Where is Alec? I sent him down here before the party started to entertain the early birds. Didn't he greet you?" They all looked at each other in befuddlement, because, quiet obviously, no one had seen Alec all night. Magnus scowled and looked out over the crowd for one tense moment before his eyes lit up, then clouded over with annoyance. "There he is." He didn't sound happy. He shoved the goblet into the hands of the nearest party-goer, who threw back his head and downed it in one gulp, no questions asked.

The five teens followed Magnus as he stalked across the dance floor, leaving a trail of curses and bruised elbows as they went. Magnus finally stopped in front of a curtained window, which was obviously concealing a human body, that was about the same size and height Alec was, so they all came to the same conclusion at about the same time. Magnus placed his hands on his hips and just waited. (There was no way Alec didn't know they were standing out there, and there was no way he could entertain the belief that they wouldn't see him.) "Alec, I know you're in there." Magnus bellowed as much as he could in the crowded room with music pumping out of huge speakers so loudly you could feel it reverberate through your ribcage. "Come out now or risk punishment." The group of kids behind him shifted uncomfortably, either taking the right or wrong meaning of those words.

"No! There's no way I'm coming out dressed in _this_!" Alec squealed from behind the curtain. "You're awful, Magnus —and I'm not staying over tonight, no matter how much you beg!"

Magnus considered this for a moment, tapping his chin with a delicate finger, then spoke with a dry sort of triumph. "I suppose now would be a bad time to tell you you're friends are right behind me. . .?" He trailed off innocently, raising a thin eyebrow and not-quiet glaring at the shapeless lump behind the curtains.

Alec squealed wordlessly, while Jace tried to cleanse his mind with naked images of Clary, of which he kept a constant stash of on his phone.

Magnus reached behind the curtain and started to drag an unwilling arm out, pulling on it as though he wanted to pull it off. "Come out of there! You look cute!"

"I look horrible!"

"No! You're adorable, really! I could find, like, ten guys,right now, who would _totally_ want to have sex with you!" Magnus heaved on the unrelenting limb again, then added, as an afterthought. "I wouldn't let them!"

"That's not the point!"

Magnus let go of Alec's arm, which slithered under the curtain so fast that no one even got a peek of what was on it, but from what Jace could tell, his arms (at least his right one) was completely bare. With a sparkly snap of Magnus's sparkly fingers, the curtain disappeared, going to the unknown realm of where-ever it was that Magnus sent those things. Alec screamed and tried to cover himself with his arm, as all his friends screamed and tried to cover their eyes, especially Jace and Simon.

For you see, the only legitimate article of clothing that Alec was wearing was a pair of tiny leather shorts. His torso was covered in leather belts, one that went directly up from the middle of his shorts, two over each shoulder, and two under his arms that led to his back. They met in the middle with a thick silver ring. His legs were covered, at least —but with corset boots (which went up past his knee and were slutty enough to make Isabelle jealous). Alec's eyes filled with tears and he ducked behind Magnus, who looked very pleased with himself. "I hate this outfit!" He wailed from his unseen vantage point. Magnus moved to the side and Alec glared up at him, plastered to his side by one green clothed arm. "I'm cold and the leather is uncomfortable and _I hate this stupid zipper_!"

"I don't see a zipper." Mia chimed in, tilting her head to the side and trying to catch a glimpse at his backside.

"It's not the kind of zipper that's supposed to help you take off your clothes. . . More so, it's designed so that undressing won't be required to do. . ._certain things_." Magnus hinted, smiling at Alec's horrified expression. For the first time in his life, the eyes of everyone in Magnus's immediate hearing range fell directly on Alec's crotch.

"_Stop staring_!" Alec wailed, trying and failing to hide himself behind his tall and sparkly boyfriend. Everyone quickly averted their gazes, shuffling awkwardly and mumbling under their breath. Jace and Isabelle looked a little green.

Magnus looked down at the shuddering shadowhunter with a look that would have been hurt on anyone else —on him it was something like valiant suffering. "You told me you were going to entertain my guests."

"No," Alec snapped. "I believe my exact words were more along the lines of _'there's no way in hell that I'm wearing this and don't you dare materialize me down there or you're not getting sex ever again'_."

Magnus sniffed royally. "I can read between the lines."

Alec looked like he wanted to retort, but at that moment, his attention was drawn to a group of men (werewolves, if their size was any indication) leering at him and licking their lips in a way that was probably supposed to attract him, instead of making him stiffen in fear. Alec took a huge gulp of air and summoned his remaining courage and flitted across the room to the coat closet.

All was silent with the teens and the warlock for just a moment. A very awkward, _you're-fucking-my-brother_ kind of silence.

Alec returned then with a huge, ugly cat sweater hastily pulled over his head. Stay strands of hair floated around his head statically. "I'm going to bed. Jace," He turned to the shadowhunter in question, who jumped and tried to meet his eyes, though not quiet succeeding. "When you guys are ready to go, call me." Then, with an adequately gay flourish, he whipped around and stalked upstairs without a backwards glance.

"_You_ are not going to get laid in a long time, hu?" Mia said bluntly, turning to Magnus, who's lips were pursed thoughtfully.

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus shrugged, not seeming nearly as flapped as he should in such a situation. "He can't stay in there forever." At everyone's blank stares, he elaborated, "That bedroom he just huffed of to? There's a pretty sizable orgy taking place in there." Magnus turned his head to the ceiling like he could see through it. "You might want to plug your ears."

I guess it goes without saying the party didn't last as long as was planned.


	6. VI: OMG A NEW CHAPTER CLICK ON ME

A/N: Hey guys! I guess it's been kinda a while since I've updated, but I felt the need to put SOMETHING up, a~n~d I need your guys help. I got this idea for a fic, but I don't wanna say too much about it just yet. Basically, what I need from you guys is an opinion: If Clary and Jace were downworlders, what would they be? I might make a poll if that's easier, but no one seems to check those anymore. Anyway, tell me what you guys think.

Now, on to the good stuff.

I decided to put my sentence meme up here, even though I'm not technically done with it yet. For those of you who don't know what a sentence meme is, it's basically, pulling one of your most attention getting sentences out of one of your works-in-progress. They are a great way to procrastinate and get in the writing mood at the same time :) I'm just putting my MI ones up here, but I have lots more for other series, like Kingdom Hearts, The Host, and yes, there's some Twilight in there too (I don't feel the need to explain myself to YOU) If you guys want it, I'll post it up on my page.

Here we go (there's not even that many):

Magnus sprung to his feet, but was only able stare at his father as his flesh blackened and dripped.

Currently, I was having some sort of affair with Stephen King, and I couldn't seem to break away from him for more than a few minutes at a time.

Magnus scowled, lifting up the ends of his trailing gold coat so that it wouldn't drag in the puddles forming on the ground; mud, gore, wax from the candles that burned for the dead.

"Before we go to breakfast, princess, you might want to get rid of that erection."

It surprised me, actually, my thirst for life, my desire to continue waking up to the smell of smoke and the sight of my father's dead eyes, working with filthy animals and going back to that house to eat hard bread and watery soup like a prisoner.

And he collapses in front of Jace —he doesn't get down on his knees, or kneel, he collapses— and he's gasping and he cries out that name again, even louder than before, like it had been building up inside of him since the last time they were together, like a faucet dripping in the back of his head, a steady beat that had been easy enough to ignore until it overflowed in one horrifying, heart wrenching, God-awful moment of realizing that you will never forget him and you will never let go of him because you love him and it doesn't have to make sense as long as it's true and it's there.

"Oh my God," I breathed. "You got lo mien." I started to cry again. "I fucking love lo mien." (I cheated!)

When I woke up, I was on a bench, and I was cold, and I was pretty sure I wasn't wearing any underwear.


	7. VII: I'm Tired of This Piece of String

A/N: ...hey. This is kinda awkward, hu? Yeah, it's been a while. I'm sorry I didn't call. I've just had a lot of STUFF to do. I'm just now learning how to type, so it's making the writing process as slow as it can possibly be without coming to a complete stop. I've got a TON of stuff for you guys that I just need to finish up, so don't give up on me yet. Thanks to all those who've been this patient with me and put up with all my weirdness and bad jokes and grammatical errors and inexistent plot lines and ANYHOO here's your new chapter, and I just want to apologize in advance. I''m not sure where this came from.

xXxXxXxXxXx

At precisely eight o'clock that morning, Alec woke up, stretched, took a look out the window and thought, _Wow, what a beautiful day. I think I'd like to go for a walk with Izzy and Jace and get some of those breakfast burritos McDonalds has, maybe kick a little demon ass, maybe, if the weather is still permitting and I'm not soaked head-to-toe in ichor, head over to Magnus's while my testosterones are still flowing and remind that hip-hugger-wearing warlock why he's been walking with a limp for the last few days. _Then, as he was going to go get dressed, he caught a glimpse of the calender, and todays date, which had been circled and covered with urgent, red sharpie, and he remembered what today was.

_Aw, hell._

At precisely eight thirty, Alec got up off the floor and decided not to throw himself out the window.

He put on his nicest clothes (no holes; no stains; minor wrinkles; not stinking in a way that would be painfully obvious if he just hunched over a little, he reassured himself) and combed his hair four times, then ruffled it up with his fingers, frustrated with society's obsession with the beautification of dead cells, and was starting to understand Brittany (like, really deep into her soul, and stuff) when he figured he could probably make his hair look acceptable if he'd just suck it up and frickin' wet his comb like his sister had told him to do a million times.

At precisely nine o'clock, he got a panicked call from Magnus, asking if he'd seen his rhinestone green platforms anywhere to which Alec had replied _fuck_, which, of course, fueled an hour long, one-sided barrage of awkward sex jokes, laced with the perfect amount of _first-dinner-with-the_-_parents_ nervousness to completely and utterly destroy whatever lining his stomach membrane had managed to build in the last hour (because if Magnus was nervous, then Alec sure as hell better be nervous too).

At precisely nine ten, Alec got up off the floor (so it hadn't exactly been an hour long phone call. So what? Like you've never exaggerated the truth to make for a better sounding run-on sentence —seems to be quiet a few of those here, hu?).

At precisely ten o'clock, Alec's parents arrived, smiling and awkward and ready as they'll ever be.

At precisely ten fifteen, Alec began to calm down.

Then Jace said he wouldn't be able to make it to dinner because he was going to go watch Clary get her learners permit (which means that Jace would rather sit at the _DMV_ than sit through a dinner with his parents, him, Izzy, and Magnus —though, really, Alec couldn't blame him. He was currently praying for someone, _anyone_, to take _him_ to the DMV).

Then Isabel said she couldn't make it to dinner because she'd rather stick her head in the oven then endure the torture she knew this dinner was going to be.

At precisely ten thirty, Alec finished setting the table.

Magnus would be here at twelve.

oOoOoOoOo

Alec hovered around the table, rearranging forks and glasses for the fiftieth time. From the kitchen, he could here the sounds of his mother cursing and grumbling. Alec had offered to cook, but she had insisted, and he had given in —though his resolve started to crumble when he heard the tell-tale sound of pots and pans clattering to the ground. He winced, and glanced hesitantly at the kitchen door, as though he'd see some gelatinous beast of his mothers creation seeping out from between the cracks.

He was about to push open the door, to make sure whatever it was his mother was cooking wasn't trying to kill her, when a loud gong-like sound reverberated through the entire house. Alec's shoulders sank and he felt his stomach jump into his throat. He glanced at his watch. It was only ten fifty-six. Could that be Magnus already?

The entire house seemed to be holding it's breathe in anticipation. From inside the kitchen all sound had ceased. His mother stuck her head out the door. "Is he here already? I'm not done yet." There was only a slight note of panic in the demon killer's voice. From behind the kitchen doors, something started to sizzle and pop. "Stall him!"

What an awful, awful thing for a mother to tell her son to do to his boyfriend, Alec thought, aghast. But he just nodded, and headed towards the front door and tried his hardest not to notice all the open, enticing windows he pasted on the way there.

He was so nervous, he didn't even try to compose his face until the door was already half-way open. A distraught, shaky, half-assed smile tugged at his lips, a little too late to be convincing.

Magnus stood in the doorway with his hair just as spiky and glittery as ever. He wore a frilly, black-and-white striped shirt with a piratey\frock coat-like thing thrown over it. He had tiny black shorts that were pulled up past where other people had belly-buttons, and an array of belts and buckles adorned his waist. His tan legs were smooth and hairless under his ripped up fish-nets and knee-high boots.

Alec wasn't aware that he was talking out loud until Magnus asked, "Why what?"

Alec closed his eyes tightly, feeling a migraine throbbing at his temple. "Couldn't you have toned it down, at least a little? For me?"

Magnus looked like he was going to protest, probably with a _this is toned down_ but instead he just sighed and snapped his fingers. When the smoke cleared, Alec saw that he was still wearing the black-and-white shirt and the frock coat-thing, but he'd traded out the shorts for a pair of slightly more modest black jeans. "Better?"

Alec smiled and took his hand. "Thank you."

Magnus grinned and winked. "I'm still wearing the garters."

Alec blushed and looked down at their entwined fingers, smiling all-the-same. _Baby steps_, they both thought simultaneously. And for a moment, they leaned close together and their lips were only a centimeter apart when Magnus's coat began to mew.

Alec pulled away and gave him one of those looks Magnus was beginning to associate with _remind me again why I'm going out with this freak_.

Magnus laughed and reached into his pocket. "Oh no, don't be alarmed. It's not what you think."

"Oh good. For a second I thought you brought your cat with you."

"Oh. Well, in that case, it's exactly what you think." And Magnus plucked chairman Meow from his coat pocket and dropped him in Alec's waiting hands (by 'waiting hands' we of course mean 'swift hands that caught him inches above the floor'). "Cat sitters are hard to find on such short notice, you know—"

"We've been planning this for weeks."

"—and you know how I hate to just leave him alone for unforeseeable amounts of time—"

"You loose him weekly."

"—and besides that, how would I feed him—?"

"You're a _warlock_."

And so, the pair continued down the hall in a similar manner, fighting-but-not-really-fighting in that cute, quirky, romantic-comedy way. And we would probably follow them, like the creepers we all are at heart, but this story isn't about them. No, not this time. (I'm serious, you guys, quit looking at me that way)

From his spot on the floor, where he'd been _dropped_, Chairman Meow ruffled his whiskers and hissed, except, now, it sounded a lot more like "bastards".

Alright, lets do this.

oOoOoOoOo

Chairman Meow, being born and raised on the slutty side of New York, was, he liked to think, a mixture of Mimi from _Rent_ and Estella from _Great Expectations_. Classy, but with a crazy side; he was a wild animal after all. Though, it's not like he went around raising his tail for just any cat. Only the very special cats got access to his palace.

From down the hall, Chairman Meow heard the pitter-patter of approaching paws, signaling he was not alone. He turned around just in time to see a dark furred Persian cat stick it's head around the corner,

Church, he would soon learn, was not to be one of those lucky cats.

oOoOoOoOo

Church wasn't stupid. He knew there were other cats in the world. He'd seen pictures of them, heard the humans discuss them, even seen glimpses of them from some of the various windows of the house. He'd not, however, counted on today being the day he'd seen one up close.

If he'd been informed, if he'd of been told in advance this day was coming, he'd of had a more eloquent speech prepared. An introduction. He'd swagger in and smile and say something like _Welcome, my my, it's been a while since we've had visitors around these parts, allow me to introduce myself, I'm Church, and this, if you weren't aware, is The Institute._

Something like that, anyway.

Anything, really, other than what he actually said, which was more long the lines of, "Who the hell are you?"

The cat in question just stared at him for the longest time, mouth hanging open with a look of almost disgust on his furry white face. "Oh my God," He said under his breath in a slightly feminine, slightly New Yorkian slur. "I've stumbled upon something rather amazing here, haven't I?"

_This is a mistake this is a mistake this is a mistake this is a mistake_ "Excuse me?"

"You're," The other cat started in on him, slinking lazily towards him like he was an injured mouse. "You're one of those pampered, _never-set-foot-on-the-street-in-my-life_ cats, aren't you? One of those, _born-behind-the-sofa_ cats, am I right? Wow," The other cat was about an inch away from him now, circling him with unashamed curiosity. He bluntly started sniffing him, as though it were a perfectly normal thing to do —and, who knows? Maybe, for street cats, it is. "I've only ever seen cats like you on TV. . ." The tiny, furry thing went on, sniffing the length of his tail in a way that was completely and utterly awkward and embarrassing. _It would seem,_ Church thought to himself, _that I've still got quiet a lot to learn about the world yet._

"Er," Church cleared his throat and struggled to regain his composure. "I'd like to be the first to welcome you to the Institute. My name is Church. I-."

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Church blanched, and took a few hesitant steps back from the convulsing little hairball. "What?" He snapped, feeling irritated when the other cat still didn't say anything. "My God, you stupid little rodent, _tell me what's so funny_?"

"Y- Your name!" The other cat shrieked in delight. "It's s- so fitting!" With that, he collapsed into a fit of hysteria that either completely infuriated Church or deeply worried him (he seemed to be having trouble breathing).

"Well, if you didn't have any pressing issues with me," Church started to back away down the hall. This was becoming more trouble than it was worth. If this was what other cats were like, then Church certainly didn't want anything to do with them. "Then I'll just be on my way."

"Wait! Wait up!" The other cat pounced after him, falling easily into step beside him, his eyes narrowing dangerously, like Church was a bowl of creme left unguarded. "I didn't mean to offend you —it's just been a while since I've interacted with anyone that I wasn't planning to—." He stopped abruptly, a gave a little, fake cough, looking away.

"Have relations with?" Church finished dryly.

"Something like that," He licked his whiskers mischievously.

"So you're one of _those_ types of cats," Church sighed and continued on his way, feeling a little let down. His first encounter with another one of his own species and it had to be a floozy. "I should have known. How did you get in here, anyway?"

"Food Provider brought me," The other cat said looking surprised, as though it should be obvious. "Didn't you see him?"

_Food Provider?_ Church thought to himself. _How cute._ "I'm not sure. . . By the way, you never told me your name."

"Oh," The cat said. "It's Chairman Meow."

Church wasn't accustomed to laughing, so it took him a minute to understand exactly what the sound coming out of his throat meant.

"WHAT?" Chairman Meow snarled. "You got a problem, you bastard?"

"YOU!" Church exclaimed, pointing a trembling paw at the powder puff before him. "HOW DARE YOU MAKE FUN OF THE NAME CHURCH! HOW DARE YOU! YOU'R NAME IS CHAIRMAN MEOW!"

"I'm aware of that," Chairman Meow said, looking down. If you looked close enough, you might be able to see a slight flush under all that fur. "It's not like I got to choose it."

Church didn't answer. He was too busy laughing.

". . .my friends call me Chair. . ."

This was how the hatred was born.

oOoOoOoOo

"So, Mrs. Lightwood, what will we be eating tonight?"

A little panicked, Mayrse shot an accusing look at her son, who merely shrugged, and said in a tight voice, "Oh, it's a bit of a surprise. . . It will be ready any minute now." She laughed a little manically.

Magnus rubbed his stomach in a completely uncharacteristically ungraceful gesture that made his boyfriend do a double take. "I can't wait. I'm starving."

_He's making small talk,_ Alec realized with a stab of love that nearly choked him. _Bless him_ —_he's making small talk for me._

Suddenly, a gong-like sound reverberated through the Institute making Alec jump and feel queasy before he remembered that Magnus was already here and the only thing he had to worry about now was getting through the evening without literally dieing of embarrassment.

Magnus shot him a look that seemed to say _What the hell, Alec? Anyone else you invited to meet your parents tonight?_

Alec just shrugged in a way he hoped could be interpreted as _The hell should I know? You invite your friends to come party?_

"Oh, I'll go get it!" Mayrse shot a glance at her son that could easily be recognized by anyone who'd know her as long as he had as _Distract him! I ordered Chinese food and need to sneak it into the kitchen and onto the good plates to make it look homemade!_

Alec took a deep breath and turned back to Magnus. "Why don't you have a seat. I'm going to go-."

"You haven't started without me, have you?" Robert Lightwood walked in, removing his coat and draping it over the back of his chair. "It's good to see you again, Magnus." He offered his hand to the warlock, who took it with a second to spare, as though he thought it might be snatched away if he didn't seize this opportunity.

"It's good to see you again as well, sir." Magnus was extremely charming when he wanted to be. "It has been a while, hasn't it? Sorry I couldn't come over sooner, I've had a lot of work to catch up with after being in Iris for soon long." It was true; Magnus had stayed in Iris months after the battle had been over. Mostly, he healed the wounds the stele's hadn't been able to and worked on restoring the wards, but he'd also been assigned to help the new Head Warlock contact others around the globe that hadn't already flocked there with the news that they had Clave recognition. It had been monotonous, tiring work, tracking them all down —the one's who were in hiding, the one's who were afraid of the Clave, those who didn't even know there was a Clave (Warlocks have proven to be a forgetful people). But Magnus did his work quietly and dutifully, and only set to nagging and whining when Alec would steal into his room in the middle of the night to hold his head in his lap, rubbing his temples and running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, it's quiet all right, I certainly understand. My, the last time I saw you, you were, I believe, smuggling my son out his bedroom window in the middle of the night." He smiled brightly, sitting down. "So Alec, what's mom cooked up for us tonight?"

"I'll go get the wine." Alec said, disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'll help." Magnus said, making to follow him.

Alec whipped around, glaring at his boyfriend with a look of _No way! We are not aloud to be in a room alone together until my parents are at least ten miles away._

Magnus stared back at him hard, silently saying _Don't you dare leave me alone with him, you asshole._

"Say, Magnus," Robert called from the table. "I never did get the chance to ask you before how you and my son met." He smiled a very sharp smile. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

_Go!_ Alec's eyes screamed at his motionless boyfriend.

_You owe me for this,_ Magnus mouthed before turning around and saying, "It's actually a very interesting story, sir. . ."

_Blowjobs for a week then,_ Alec thought, shrugging, turning into the kitchen so he could finally breath.

oOoOoOoOo

Padding silently through the halls, Church showed Chairman Meow around, if only to have something to fill the long hours they'd been forced to spend together.

"And, if you'll look to your right you'll see yet another bedroom."

"Fascinating," Chairman Meow sighed. "And before you go on, let me take a guess as to the next three doors; bedroom, bedroom, bedroom. Am I right?"

"This place was meant to house injured or otherwise deterred shadowhunters. There are bound to be countless rooms specifically for this purpose. When it was first constructed in 17-."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Very interesting, but let me ask you a question." Church squeezed his eyes shut, but stopped and waited. God knows how much more time they had ahead of them. Best not to start picking fights. When no immediate denial spouted from Church's lips, Chairman Meow went on. "What do you do for fun around here?"

"Fun?" Church asked, as though he'd never heard of it before. (And, who knows, maybe he hadn't. _Cats on this side of the street seemed to be way more sheltered_, Chairman meow thought.) He thought about it for a minute, then, said, rather slowly, "There are plenty of things I've found to occupy myself with."

"Like?"

Church smiled a little distantly somewhere just to the left of Chairman Meow's paw. "I'm rather fond of reading. And there are lots of book here."

_I should have known it'd be something like that,_ Chairman Meow thought, rolling his eyes. "Never mind."

oOoOoOoOo

"This is delicious Lo Mein you've prepared for us tonight, Mrs. Lightwood."

"Why thank you Magnus. You can call me Mayrse if you'd like."

"Ha ha. Alright then; Mayrse."

Insert more patronizing laughter here.

Alec stared duly at his fork, trying to remember the location of the vital vein in his throat. It'd be easy enough to skewer himself with it, except that would leave Magnus to fair for himself. There's a lot to be said for the fact Magnus's safety meant more to him than his own dignity.

He was quietly humming _Please, Please, Please Let me Get What I Want_ under his breath when his mother stood up, saying, "Just let me clear out these dishes, and we'll have some dessert."

_I didn't know Baskin Robbins delivered_, Alec thought with a furrowed brow. "Let me help, mom."

"Oh no, Alec, I—."

"No, it's okay." He smiled apologetically at Magnus, who's somewhat frozen smile could be interpreted as _fuck you asshole_. "We'll be right back."

oOoOoOoOo

Alec usually ended up with dish duty. They had a system worked out, but it was rarely enforced. Jace simply didn't do it, no excuses, no tricks. He knew it grated on Alec's nerves to see a sink full of dishes (it also attracted ants and cockroaches, which they all hated), and that it would only be a matter of time before he did them for him. He was evil and manipulative that way, but it was okay (we've been over this; first, Jace was a weird kid, then a crush, then an excuse, then a brother). Isabel did it every once in a while, but every time she did, Alec ended up cleaning them a second time anyway (she didn't actually scrub them, she just filled the sink with soap water, left them for an hour, then dried them. And she left smears). He'd grown accustomed to dishes duty, and didn't mind it so much anymore (he was also usually responsible for Magnus's dishes, but that was okay too, because, well, you know: _the sex_ [Oh yeah, and all that love stuff. That too.]).

It was comfortable to stand next to his mother, scrubbing plates and setting them in the drying rack. His mothers brow was scrunched up —she'd probably only done the dishes manually two times in her life, including right now. He'd tried telling her to go prepare the desserts while he finished up, but she wouldn't hear it. His mother was headstrong like that, and it made him smile to see her struggling with dried soy sauce when she could behead a two-story tall demon with nothing but a high feel shoe and a tree branch.

"Alec," Before he even had time to mentally curse, his mothers hand gripped his under the water. Alec couldn't deal with deep moments like these, unless he was drunk and he couldn't see that happening at the moment. "He makes you happy?" She asked quietly, staring at him intently.

Alec thought about all the irritating things Magnus did just to get under his skin. He thought about their first few weeks together, all the fights, all the horrible things they said to each other, how it just hadn't seemed worth it. He thought about the years to come, when he would grow old and Magnus would continue to stay young and beautiful. Because, in the end, this was just a pleasant dream, wasn't it? They couldn't go the distance. It was just an amusement for the warlock until the clock struck midnight on Alec's pale little flicker of life.

Of course he loved Magnus. He'd gladly wade through all the shit they put each other through for just the chance to hold that flashy idiot's hand. But what did it matter in the end? What did they have to show for it?

"Of course I love him," He said quietly, not looking at his mother. "And I will love him. . .forever."

"Then why are you crying?"

oOoOoOoOo

Church and Chairman Meow sat by the huge ornate doors, each waiting for their respective masters to relieve them of the burden they'd been forced to spend time with. Neither spoke or even so much as looked at one another. Church was too busy grinding his fangs down to curves to talk, while Chairman Meow was wondering if he could land on his feet after a three story drop.

When Church heard approaching footsteps and voices he had to fight down the urge to outright pounce on his young master. Alexander Lightwood came down the hall with his beau in toe; they were talking animatedly, but he couldn't tell if they were happy or angry from this far away, and, frankly, he didn't give a fuck. All he wanted was his sweet, sweet solitude back.

"I think they like me," Said the more fantastically dressed of the two (the Food Provider, he assumed).

"My dad threw a fork at your head." Alexander replied rather duly. "Sorry about that, by the way."

"I'm going to choose to believe that that was an accident."

"If thats what makes you happy. . ."

"What's the matter with you?" Magnus Bane grabbed Alexander by the shoulders, spinning him around to face him. "You've been like this since dinner. Tell me what's wrong."

_Ah fuck. Not this. Not now. You're so close —just take your stupid cat and go home. Please, just a few more steps. I'm begging you. Have your silly little lovers quarrel some other time. _It hurt so bad not to say it out loud. Church's claws began digging into the floor.

"Magnus," Alec said to the floor. "What are we doing? Yeah, we patched things up now, but what does it really matter?"

Magnus cringed. It mattered to him. It meant everything to him.

"Will it matter in ten years? How about thirty? When I'm old? When I'm dying?" Alec was almost screaming now, still staring at the floor that wouldn't judge him for his tears, so he didn't see when Magnus's face softened into a serene smile. "Will it mean anything to you when you get tired of spending your days watching me die?" A sob in his throat nearly choked his words to incomprehension. Finally, he looked up at his boyfriend. "I don't want you to forget me but I also don't WHY ARE YOU SMILING LIKE THAT YOU COCK? I'M POURING MY SOUL OUT TO YOU, YOU KNOW."

"Alec," Magnus said softly, cupping his flushed face gently. "We don't have to worry about that yet."

"What do you—."

"This is a crack chapter." Magnus said. "We can just take it easy for now."

Alec felt a flush curl through his body. "Do you really mean that, Magnus?"

Magnus smiled down at him endearingly. "From the very bottom of my heart."

Insert passionate embrace here.

"Hey," Alec said once Magnus had unglued his lips from his face. "I think our cats are trying to kill each other."

"Naw, they're just playing. Aren't they cute? But no seriously. Pants. Off. _Now_."


End file.
